


Subtracting Indecision

by scy



Category: Smallville
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scy/pseuds/scy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are three people in this relationship, even if one of them is always on the sidelines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subtracting Indecision

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to bop_radar, who listened to me ramble *a lot* and then was kind enough to return the favor. She was also an invaluable cheerleader and fully supports the use of mistletoe and barns as props.

From the second they shook hands, Oliver knew that Clark wasn't quite what everyone else thought. Of all the qualities which kept him out of trouble and told Oliver that he was aware of how to live a double life, there was the way that Clark made it easy for people to dismiss him. He was nice enough to be labeled 'dependable' and willing to stand back instead of putting himself out where everyone could decide what he was about.

Lois had called him 'forgettable' one night when she and Oliver were on their way to a social function. 'Nice but sort of hinky,' she added and didn't want to continue the conversation.

It was enough for Oliver to surmise that Lois knew just the most basic facts about Clark Kent and for some reason, didn't think she would get anything out of looking closer, which meant she had truly dismissed him. It was a great departure from her usual driven curiosity. One of the things he admired most about her was the fact that Lois wasn't easily redirected and how she knowingly walked into situations that the authorities usually assigned to armed men. Oliver respected such determination and was surprised at how she could be cynical one moment and completely disarmed by the simplest consideration the next. The dichotomy amused him and kept the relationship fresh. It also put him on edge some of the time because Lois had a way of showing up just when he was ready to pull a job as the Green Arrow. In spite of all the good press other papers had given him, Lois was convinced that she knew as much as she needed to about the 'dangerous vigilante' she'd introduced to the world and wouldn't stop to ask questions. The subject of whether the Green Arrow was an inspiration or a man in need of imprisonment was one of their arguments that neither would concede, no matter how often it came up.

"Returning the stuff he stole doesn't make him a good guy, it just means he got scared." Lois smiled fiercely, and Oliver could tell she was remembering the confrontation where she'd almost gotten the Green Arrow's mask off with pride. He recalled how she'd looked when she faced off against him; dirty, a little bruised, but not about to give up her advantage and about to make the most of it before she was interrupted.

"It could be that he was trying to right a wrong and he found another way to do it," Oliver suggested. He predicted any attempt to reason Lois out of her mindset would be a failure, but he had another set of tickets in his pocket and he was willing to try again.

"I don't think that creep thinks of other people enough to know what good intentions are," Lois snapped.

"If you say so," Oliver said mildly. He'd brought coffee, with whipped cream and extra chocolate, but not even that was calming Lois' present mood.

Lois had her bias and it wasn't undeserved. She'd gotten into a few dangerous spots because of him, it was no wonder she resented the Green Arrow. The trouble with being the supportive boyfriend by day and wearing a mask at night was that thinking about himself as being split between two identities was getting a little dizzying, and Oliver was finding that secret identities weren't easy to hide.

Having Lois come over to his place and try to clock him with a barbell had been a good indicator of just how far he had yet to come in her opinion. And that estimate preceded him throwing her into a table and sending her to the hospital. Even going out later the nights following his apology hadn't helped him feel any better. For so long he'd had a goal and structured his life around that objective. The persona of a carefree young playboy was useful. If his business made the news, it wasn't because amateur journalists or inquisitive farm boys had uncovered illegal activities. Instead he used the contacts he had in all the right places to get close to whatever object he felt should be liberated and made the most of many dull parties. Lately though, his two lives were coming too close for his peace of mind. Some guys were able to do their work and leave it at the office, but Oliver was betting that based on what he'd heard from Clark, doing what they did was hard to switch off. He at least had some way to hide himself; Clark seemed fond of speeding out of sight before anybody knew what had happened. It wasn't right; those abilities of his could do immeasurable good, and there had to be a way to use them openly.

Clark still wasn't for revealing himself like Oliver had, but he might come around if there was someone around willing to push him out of his comfort zone. Smallville was a unique town and a good place to hone special talents, but it didn't fit in with Clark's future, not on the scale he was capable of. From his apartment, Oliver looked out the window and thought that Metropolis could be a better fit. It was part of why he'd relocated; the city needed a protector, especially with Lex Luthor in residence.

He didn't know Clark's history with Lex, but Oliver had seen what went into shaping the Luthor heir, and he could speak with authority on how dangerous he was. Even if he'd gone after Lex in the worst way, he wasn't going to bet on the encounter steering Lex in a less destructive direction. Lex Luthor was a frightening man and as he gained more power, that would only give him greater resources to misuse. Murdering a man was one line that Oliver had come too close to crossing, and it was his own wake up call. If he wanted to aspire to the lofty precedents that Clark had set, then Oliver was going to have to find other means of thwarting Lex's schemes. It was apparent that he'd need help, which wasn't an idea he was accustomed to, or entirely sure of how it might work, but Oliver had decided that he'd find a way to put it into action. He started by carefully encouraging a free exchange of information.

"I know you were friends with Lex, but you've got to admit that he's been getting into some bad stuff, Clark."

Clark looked away, which told Oliver that the farm boy hadn't always been willing to admit that Lex's business ventures weren't all legitimate, but most importantly, that he was aware of how big a scale Lex was working on.

"The man is building an empire and he will consume whatever he wants and burn down anything in his way," Oliver said soberly.

"You're talking as if Lex is some criminal mastermind, he's not all that careful about his plans," Clark replied.

"Which is worse, because if you're finding things like those murdered workers on LuthorCorp land, then what is he keeping hidden?" This was a possibility that Oliver had considered and even all the investigating his security specialists had been doing wasn't giving him the dirty that he knew they should be unearthing, which gave him more reason to be concerned. Not knowing what Lex was doing chilled Oliver; he was aware of how well money altered memories, made incriminating evidence vanished and cleaned up messes. He'd used his share of it, but not like the Luthors. They were so used to getting their own way that it was gospel that the Luthors ruled only just behind the curtain.

"And you think that Lex is plotting to take over the world and rule it?" Clark looked disbelieving, but only so far as he thought it was maybe too obvious.

"Financially, yes. What did you think a company's goal was, Clark? Everyone is out to make a profit and leave their competitors in no position to fight back." Any little boy who built skyscrapers thought about imposing his will on the world and Lex had never been content with just building things up.

"Lex used to joke that he wasn't out to conquer the world," Clark said wearily.

"Back when you two met?" What the Inquisitor hadn't splashed all over its social pages was what interested Oliver and Clark was one person who could offer perspective untainted by all the perceptions of city life.

"Yeah, his dad sent him to Smallville to run the plant." From Clark it sounded like there had been one mistake where Lex and Lionel weren't able to agree on a suitable arrangement and so Lionel had exercised his will to send his son off where he could make much les trouble.

"Exiled him from high society," Oliver corrected. He remembered the headlines and the gossip.

"Lionel and Lex have this battle; both sides are out for blood, but they pull together against anybody else." Clark stared blankly at his bottled water as he spoke. It sounded as if he'd been present for a few of those fights and come away with insight into Lex's life.

"Like me," Oliver said. When Lionel had suspected Oliver of kidnapping Lex and he'd been as blunt as Oliver ever heard the man, and the Luthor ferocity had only been held back by the manners that he liked to pretend he possessed. Oliver had caught Clark's use of the elder Luthor's first name; that was strange, but it could come from the man spending so much time in the Kent house and his assisting Senator Kent with her office. What Lionel thought he could get out of the Kents was proportional to how generous he was being, and for Clark's sake, Oliver hoped that the family were aware of exactly who was dining with them.

Clark didn't try and convince Oliver that Lex wasn't out to get him, which was wise, because Oliver had felt Lex's conviction and seen just how far courtesy and friendship were limited by ambition. Yet plainly there had been at time in the recent past where Clark had been given access to Lex's life and they had been close, intimates in as much as a Luthor could be. Lex must have seen something in Clark that intrigued him, wanted to know his secret, just like Oliver, an outsider coming in and picking up on what everyone else passed off as the quirkiness of a kid who grew up on a farm and didn't have too many friends. But Oliver had been given some of the juicer highlights of Clark's other life and he figured someone needed to ask more than the polite questions. It wasn't a good idea for anyone to go on camping out in his or her barn, even if the view was good. The one thing that really got Clark out of the loft was an emergency that posed danger to someone in his town. It seemed like a busy, if lonely sort of routine. He had all these people he took care of, and only a couple, if any, knew who he really was.

"Honestly, Oliver, why did you call me? We aren't going to spend the afternoon trying to guess Lex's next move. He hasn't actually done anything that we can prove yet." Clark gave Oliver a frustrated look.

"No, I left my secret plans in my office," Oliver told him as he twisted the top off his own bottle and took a sip.

"Oliver, this is your office," Clark said, motioning to the desk.

"No, the couch doesn't count. We are sitting in non-office space, therefore, the plans are out of reach." Oliver grinned at Clark and got one of those infinitesimal smiles. Someday he was going to get a real grin out of Mr. Kent, he was certain of it.

"So, what is the real reason I'm hanging out in your non-office space drinking bottled water and planning for the future?" The teasing didn't bother Clark; during the last several years, he had gained an ease in handling the wild statements of rich men.

"Lois." Oliver didn't like to admit when he was confused, particularly about a woman, but Lois Lane was special.

"What did you do?" Clark asked.

"And what makes you think that I did something?" Oliver demanded.

"Or is it something you didn't do?" Clark sounded knowing, and as if it was funny, which annoyed Oliver.

"Again, I'm not always the one at fault, here," Oliver made himself sound wounded, but Clark was unmoved.

"With Lois, it's better to say you're sorry and then bring her around to your point of view after she's calmed down, trust me on this." Both Clark and Oliver sank back in the cushions, the thought of Lois in poor humor sapping their energy.

"That's why I called you, the two of you have been friends a while, you know each other pretty well, right?" It was unattractive to whine, and Oliver wouldn't admit to it if put under oath.

"She doesn't know about me," Clark said without looking up.

"I guessed as much." She wouldn't have let him get away with any of his bad excuses and awkward diversionary tactics if she knew what he could really do, Oliver knew that much for sure. And for that matter, neither would Lex.

Oliver knew Lex's tastes and Clark fit the role as though he'd been made according to specifications. Lex must have tried winning Clark with gifts and generosity that concealed at what price he'd gotten his wealth. At first there would have been friendship, but when Clark failed Lex in some way, he had been removed from Luthor protection.

Oliver wondered if it had been sufficient for Lex to offer protection because Clark dared what nobody else would, or Lex might have gotten a hint that Clark's strange habits were more than an aspect of his personality. That wasn't an encouraging thought, hopefully Clark's break with Lex hadn't been entirely acrimonious, otherwise the insult could count heavily against Clark and Lex would never leave him alone. The younger Luthor had already conducted his own, abbreviated investigation into the events of Dark Thursday, and Oliver thought it ironic that they had, in a way, collaborated to gain their information. What Lex had told Robert Pontius sounded unreal, but barring hallucinations, it was also nearly possible in Smallville. The town was a place where strange things happened, millionaires found love, farm boys grew up with extraoridnary powers, and somehow the two crossed paths.

Clark was adept enough at keeping his secrets that Lana had chosen Lex as the more honest of the two, and that was a laughable decision that Oliver still couldn't get over. Both Clark and Lex had secrets, they just practiced different levels of disclosure in their personal lives. At present, it seemed Clark was opting to forgo intimacy in favor of discretion. It was a nice idea, protecting people and not asking for anything, but he should at least get recognition.

"I asked Lois to go away again," Oliver confessed when the quiet began to feel like it was too oppressive.

"For Christmas?" Clark asked, and he sounded surprised.

"Lots of people go away during the holidays," Oliver countered.

"To see family, not lay around on a beach," was Clark's distinction.

So Lois had shared the offer with Chloe, who apparently didn't keep much from Clark.

"It would be a change." One that had the advantage of separating Lois from her headline story and Oliver from the obligations he was only partially successful in balancing.

"Christmas isn't about change, it's when we enjoy what we have that's stayed the same," Clark lectured.

"Are you a spokesman for holiday cheer?" Oliver flipped the cap to his water at Clark, who ducked out of the way without looking up. Clark showed a lack of annoyance at being picked on, probably didn't help Oliver practice more civilized word games.

"I don't think Lois is ready to fly off to an island without there being a good reason," Clark said gently.

"A vacation doesn't need a justification, that's for expense accounts." Oliver was trying for flippant but he couldn't carry it off because this mattered.

"Are you uncomfortable spending the holiday with your girlfriend?" Clark made it sound as if Oliver just needed to brace himself and tackle his issues.

"No, I don't have a problem," Oliver said.

"Okay." Clark let it go, not demanding that Oliver share what he was dealing with. Or maybe Clark had some idea. It was difficult to tell whether he was being kind or perceptive. Like laughter, a lot of his emotions didn't show much.

"You shouldn't let people get away with so much," Oliver said. "And don't tell me that it doesn't bother you that you don't get credit for what you do."

"Such as the Green Arrow Bandit?" Clark gave the title all the wrong emphasis.

"I really wish she'd left off the bit where I'm made out to be a common criminal," Oliver grumbled.

"You do steal things," Clark argued.

"And I pay back those people who deserve it." Several times over, if karma could be added to the total.

"It's not about points, you have to know what you're doing is right and abide by the law." Clark didn't sound as if he was quoting someone else, which was the only reason Oliver hadn't thrown anything else at him.

"I can't not step in when somebody needs my kind of help, Clark. It may not be the way you work, but it works for me." Oliver had considered what he was doing and why very carefully, and he couldn't question that decision when he was unsure about other things.

"So long as you don't get shot again," Clark reminded.

"How long are you going to keep bringing that up?"

Clark shrugged, leaning back into the couch like was nothing new to be hanging out in the penthouse of a millionaire and teasing him about his mistakes at work. It was just another moment when Oliver saw how close Clark and Lex had been not all that long ago.

"You're good at this whole fount of wisdom shtick," Oliver observed.

"I just try and help people when they come to me with their problems."

"Seriously, Clark, you've got a perfect in with women right there as a self-deprecating man of the earth who is a good listener." Oliver shook his head. "That's competition even in a Metropolis crowd."

"I don't think so," Clark said, ignoring the implications. He eyed Oliver sternly, the subject of Oliver's behavior wasn't going to be ignored in favor of complimenting Clark's cover.

"I didn't mean to catch a bullet," Oliver said, trying for light-hearted and sounding a bit too petulant for his liking.

"Armor wouldn't be a bad idea," Clark suggested.

"Or I could just have you tag along and use you as a shield," Oliver retorted.

"Wouldn't that be awkward?" Clark asked.

"Well, you're not exactly portable," Oliver agreed.

"I'll just stick with what I'm doing and you can try to be more careful," Clark advised.

"What is it that you're doing," Oliver asked. "Besides making the Kent Farm the most well-maintained and productive organic produce business around?"

Clark didn't quite try and cower behind his water bottle, but the urge was there. "I do stuff."

"Really, and here I thought farm living left so much leisure time." Oliver rolled his eyes.

"What do you know about farming?"

"Hey, I have it on good authority that all of the food I eat comes from picturesque Californian growers," Oliver said.

"Right." Clark's tone was doubtful.

"I read labels," Oliver insisted.

"Sure." It was worse than having doubt, Clark was humoring him.

"You're running around Metropolis, tracking down stolen jewelry and hanging out on rooftops, do you feel like you don't have enough to do?" Oliver had challenged Clark to widen his focus and he wanted to know if that was happening. "I haven't seen you." Oliver hadn't looked over the entire city when he was on duty, and there weren't a greater number of reported crimes that had been thwarted by a mysterious and anonymous Good Samaritan, but Clark was quick on his feet. "So what have you been doing with that energy and sense of responsibility, Clark?"

"There's been a lot of damage from Dark Thursday," Clark reminded, as if Oliver hadn't been out every night picking up what other people couldn't.

"Yeah, I know. I told you that there's been a spike in the crime rate since then. When any structure crumbles criminals take advantage of the weak." It wasn't going to disappear, not when he knew what was happening and could take action to help prevent it.

"And what have you been doing?" Clark shot back instinctively, not willing to be lectured on this subject when he'd heard it before.

"You know, I've been helping out the last couple weeks." Oliver had stepped in for the defenseless and taught others a lesson.

"That's good," Clark said.

"You didn't say what you've been doing," Oliver said, not ready to let it go.

"I've been helping out too."

"When, after dark?" Oliver shook his head. "Breaking curfew to do some good, I'm impressed."

"I don't have a curfew and it needs to be done."

That sounded like more than his ingrained helpfulness, Oliver caught a note that he thought tended more toward guilt, which was strange.

"Dark Thursday wasn't your fault, Clark, Some psychopath with a Messiah complex hacked into the computer system and turned out the lights. They were just trying to cause chaos, it wasn't personal."

Clark didn't look as though that had eased his mind any.

"Do you ever get tired of carrying so much?" Oliver asked.

"What do you mean?" Clark turned in Oliver's direction.

"Not everything is your fault. Trying to help the world doesn't mean you have to handle everyone's problems."

There was a response that Clark had ready; Oliver could almost see the shape of it, but Clark held it in.

"You keep a lot to yourself." Not an especially surprising bit of information, but saying it meant acknowledging that fact.

"I don't like putting my problems out for other people to deal with."

"But you're not like everybody else, you're special."

"Right, and my problems," Clark pronounced deliberately, "are that much more special."

"It makes sense," Oliver said. He didn't know how to tell Clark that it was unhealthy to keep everything to himself and wasn't sure if he wasn't making the situation worse by trying. Just recently he'd had to face his own secrets and since Clark had tried to help him, had stepped in to protect him in the most literal sense, Oliver felt that he should try to help out.

"You don't have to give me all the details, Clark, but you should know that I'd listen, if you need me to."

"Because I let you go on about your problems with Lois?" Clark said playfully, and Oliver eyed him speculatively.

"You say that like someone who doesn't enjoy Lois' company, but you and I both know that's not true." Another matter that he hadn't found a chance to bring up, but that had been in the open for the new guy to see immediately.

Clark scoffed. "You're saying I have a thing for Lois?"

"Don't play dumb, Clark. That only works on the girls, I know the game."

Now Clark looked uncomfortable. "Oliver, I wouldn't do anything-"

"I know, Clark. But there's something there with you two, and I wanted you to know that I'm not blind or selfless, I'm just happy to enjoy what I have for now." He breathed in, relieved to have let Clark know, that he knew what was coming, and that left them with the present. "Which is why I called you. I tried to take Lois on another romantic weekend and that fell through, but I think I know what to do about the other problem."

Clark was eager to move on from his concealed attraction. "What's that?"

"I've been thinking, you said that you can't keep a relationship going without full disclosure and I'm not sure that you're right."

"How's that double life going?" Clark asked.

"It's fine. Commuting gets a little hectic, but I manage." Oliver was tired, but that was negligible.

"And her campaign against the Green Arrow isn't a problem?"

"She's still after her top story." Oliver put the bottle of water on his forehead as if that would help stave off the headache he foresaw this discussion bringing him.

"Has she got any leads?"

"Not anything substantial, but she's chasing down every witness, her paper wants as much print as she can churn out."

"She's not one to give up."

"Yeah, she really isn't," Oliver said fondly.

"Okay, Lois isn't giving up on the story, has that helped you figured out what you're going to do?"

"Yes." Oliver didn't say where his thoughts had bee going lately, but Clark was perceptive, and he made the leap.

"You're thinking of breaking up with Lois," Clark said, astounded.

"It might be the best thing to do." He'd given it a lot of thought and the pounding started in his temples. Oliver groped for a bottle of aspirin and dropped two capsules in his hand, swigging water to wash them down.

"What, because she's not like all the other girls?"

"She keeps asking whey I'm gone at night, what I do." Oliver was having less luck fabricating reasons to be heading out the door suddenly when his girlfriend was looking for some time together.

"And you're running out of excuses that sound good," Clark guessed.

"See, I knew you'd understand. You've dealt with this sort of think before. How did you handle it with your girlfriends?"

"I only had to keep this from Lana," Clark said.

"Nobody else?" Oliver knew that Clark was considered kind of strange, but he must have had another girlfriend while he and Lana were having one of their teenage distant periods.

Clark lowered his eyes and Oliver was proved right.

"Yes, she was different."

"Like you?" But no one was quite like Clark, not really.

Clark didn't answer, but Oliver had his answer. "She knew your secret because she had one of her own," Oliver said, as he tried to make out the pattern of Clark's past relationships.

"She did."

"Why didn't you stay together, you sound like you two were perfect?"

"There were other problems," Clark said. He wasn't meeting Oliver's gaze, and that expression was one Oliver knew well.

"She died." Clark put the water bottle down and rubbed his hands on his jeans. "Was killed."

"I'm sorry."

"It shouldn't have happened," Clark insisted, almost to himself, like he'd repeated the words over and over. Pulling out of whatever event he'd been reliving, Clark focused on Oliver with that clear intensity. "It's not fair to leave Lois because you're afraid to tell her who you are."

"She doesn't like the Green Arrow very much."

"Have you actually given her the chance?" Clark asked.

"And what should I do? Sweep her off her feet and tell her everything?" Oliver had contemplated just that, but the daydream had lasted only up to the point where Lois opened her mouth and went off about the Green Arrow's latest daring feat.

"If you don't want to lose her, you'll have to tell her eventually."

"Speaking from life experience again?"

"Yes."

"You're pulling really hard for a guy who has crush on my girlfriend." Another instance of Clark wantng everyone around him to be happy, despite the effect it had on his own life.

"Stop turning this onto me, this is about you and Lois."

"You too. Every time Lois has an issue with me, you talk her back to the middle." Oliver had noticed that even when he wasn't taken seriously Clark applied himself to a problem wholeheartedly.

"That's an exaggeration," Clark denied.

"Not only that, but you wouldn't let me check out of it. You practically picked me up and dragged me to Thanksgiving dinner." He wouldn't have had much trouble, he knew how to reason with Oliver and it had been effective.

"It was no big deal, you needed only needed encouragment to get you out the door."

"I wouldn't have without you."

Clark waved off the compliment quickly, almost as if he was afraid it would stick.

"Are you the third party in all your friends' romances?" Oliver inquired, politeness too tiresome for this line of questioning.

"I try not to."

"But it seems to work out that way," Oliver concluded.

Neither one of them brought up Clark's ability to be the person to whom people felt at ease with, but that had to be part of it. he was just accessible enough to confide in and still that brother figure who could be left behind when that other person went back to their life.

Oliver hadn't had any siblings growing, up. Aldon and the rest of his entourage at Excelsior were friends, but he'd known they wouldn't go beyond being casual drinking buddies and placeholders for friendships. Their loss had reminded him of how he'd kept them from being closer. He saw the same thing happening with Lois; he had to keep himself removed from her on some level in order to keep doing what he needed to do. The difficult was, that, unlike his friends from school, Lois couldn't be diverted with stories of his business exploits, and he wanted to spend time with her just as much as he wanted to see him. That wasn't going to change, and yet he couldn't stop helping those people who being taken advantage. Nor would he ignore the actions of those who were powerful, influential, and unscrupulous.

"Are you going to keep harping on me about my lack of a love life, or decide what to do?" Clark had been patient up until now, but that had passed.

"I thought I'd been avoiding the issue so well."

"Points for effort," Clark said.

"But not enough, I take it." Oliver was aware of how far he'd strayed off topic.

"Not when you're the one who came to me for help."

"I could have just been looking to unload on you."

"But you knew I'd try and help you find a solution. Even if it's not the one you feel the most comfortable with."

"So your suggestion is to come clean about everything." It still sounded crazy.

"Unless you can think of a way for me to get from one place to another on time."

Oliver paused, an idea occurring to him. "You know, with that speedy you've got, you could easily get me back home on time."

"What, you want me to be a kind of super-fast taxi service?" Clark's tone was combination of offense and disbelief.

"Hey, it would clear up Lois' suspicions about me running off with another girl," Oliver exclaimed.

"And me following your around all night just to get you back to your place before midnight is your best solution?"

"You wouldn't have to follow me, Clark. I can patrol on my own, you'd meet me at a pre-arranged time and place." This was sounding better with each revision Oliver made to the plan.

"Why don't you do your patrolling on nights that you aren't with Lois?" Clark played the voice of reason.

"I can't drop out of sight when I have a date. Besides," Oliver ribbed the back of his neck, "Lois tends to stop by for no reason."

"Yeah, having someone care about you is awful, I really sympathize," Clark said dryly, and marveled, "it's almost unbelievable, Lois has hooked up with a guy who is even quicker than her to find a way this isn't going to work."

"Are you going to help me or not?" Oliver demanded.

"I've been trying to, but apparently logic doesn't apply here." Clark sighed. "What do you want to do?"

"Let's try you getting me from one engagement to another a couple times, see how it goes."

"And then?"

"I'll think about your suggestion," Oliver agreed.

"Good." Clark sounded satisfied, but didn't make a bigger deal out of it.

A couple nights later, Oliver wasn't sure if Clark would show, but seconds before the agreed time, he felt a gust of wind that rocked him back on his heels.

"That's an impressive entrance," Oliver said. "You might want to work on the outfit, though. Hick chic doesn't look good on the front page of the Inquisitor."

"I'll keep that in mind," Clark said. Moving closer, he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. "You get what you were looking for?" His tone wasn't disapproving, but only just.

"I told you, I haven't been stealing from the deserving recently." The undeserving had to watch out though, Oliver had been tougher on the criminal population knew that his reputation for swift retribution was growing.

"And you're being careful."

"Yes, dear, I am," Oliver assured sweetly.

"Glad to hear it." Clark didn't comment on the nickname, but his cheeks were a little flushed and Oliver didn't think it was entirely from his run.

"So how does this work, you grab whoever you're taking and take off?"

"I don't usually go on a run with anyone else."

"But you have, right? I'm not going to get a bad case of windburn."

"No, you won't," Clark's exasperation made him short.

"Alright then, let's get going, Lois is close by at eleven tonight."

"I can be across town in under a couple minutes," Clark promised, still looking indecisive.

"Then this isn't going to be a problem, Clark, come on." Oliver adjusted his equipment, checked to make sure nothing would fall out during the trip and resisted the urge to check his watch. "I'm ready."

"Okay." Clark stuck his arm out and put it around Oliver's waist. He took a deep breath and then lifted Oliver off his feet. Oliver felt another rush of air and the world blurred like it had been slipped into fast-forward and Oliver closed his eyes against the whirling colors and stinging wind. He counted to fifteen and then Clark came to a halt. Oliver opened his eyes as Clark set him on his feet like he didn't weigh more than the breeze billowing around them.

"That's some trick you've got, Clark." Oliver shook off a brief dizzy spell. "It would take a little getting used to, but it's a great rush." Oliver pushed his sunglasses up. "I bet you take off whenever things get too intense, run off whatever's bothering you."

"Not really," Clark said.

"Huh, you should," Oliver said. He glanced up at his building. "I'd better get out of most of this before I take the elevator." He slipped into the alley and stripped off the vest, and hood. The pants and boots fit in with a lot of club dress codes and the rest of his gear went into a bag he kept for clothes or artifacts he picked up.

Clark watched while he restored his image of Mr. Queen millionaire businessman, just coming back from a night partying.

"Let's head up," Oliver said. "Unless you've got somewhere to be."

"Lois is coming over in a little while," Clark reminded.

"Yeah, you're right." Oliver smiled. "Listen, man, thanks for helping me out."

No problem," Clark said.

"Talk to you later," Oliver said and headed inside. He looked over his shoulder and found empty space where Clark had been standing. He had to get upstairs fast, otherwise Lois would be waiting, again.

The next week was a rush of meetings with clients and reviews of several projects that required his scrutiny. When he was back in his loft with a few hours to call his own, he thought about Clark. It wasn't his habit to call anybody up for a follow up, but with all the trouble Clark had gone to, he'd be curious about what had happened, but too polite to ask. Clark wasn't the only one who'd been investigating new acquaintances and Oliver had the Kent's phone number.

"Kent residence," a woman answered.

"Senator Kent, this is Oliver Queen, may I speak with Clark?"

"Hello, Mr. Queen, yes, I'll get him."

Oliver heard Martha Kent cover the mouthpiece and call out, Clark picked up the phone seconds later, like he'd been a couple feet away, but Oliver would have bet on the next county.

"Hi, Oliver."

"I thought you'd be interested in the outcome of our plan." Oliver said.

"Sure," Clark sounded hesitant.

"She was really pleased that I was both on time and not with another girl." Which didn't go into detail but was absolutely true.

"That's good." Clark could tell that wasn't the whole story.

"My computer system tracks police radio traffic and there were five robberies and eight muggings last night while I stayed in with Lois."

"There's nothing you could do about that, you had somewhere to be," Clark consoled.

"A date."

"A life."

"But you can't be in two places at once," Clark said determinedly. He said something to his mother and then Oliver heard a door slam shut. "Sorry, I'm going into the barn, Mom's got a bunch of campaign stuff to go over and if I hang around she'll try and help me instead."

"Did she have any advice?"

"She says that you need to take it easier on yourself," Clark recited.

"Basically, one workaholic to another."

"Yeah, but she's right."

"Do you ever run yourself ragged, Clark?" Oliver had wondered if it was even possible for Clark to stretch his limits.

"It's happened," Clark admitted.

"Because you were trying too hard?" The concept was unreal.

"I was cleaning up a mess," Clark evaded.

"One of your labors."

There was a sigh through the phone, Clark's frustration was audible. "And your answer to this is for you never to date Lois again, to become a hermit that only comes out at night to fight crime."

"You say that like it's not a brilliant plan." Oliver had even done a layout for an extension to his current living space.

"Except for the part where you're a freaky recluse with no friends, yeah, it sounds great."

"I could do it," Oliver declared.

"No, it wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"I wouldn't let you do that to yourself," Clark said firmly and added, "And neither would Lois." Clark's protective streak was showing, and Oliver laughed, it was kind of sweet the way he was trying to save another man from himself.

"You can't stop someone from doing what they're meant to, Clark." The sooner he realized that, the less time he'd spend beating up on himself for failing.

"You have to at least try, give them the chance to change."

"Not everybody can do that, and sometimes they don't want to."

"I know, but this call was about you having a good night, finding out that the world moves on without you and blowing this out of proportion," Clark reminded.

"I'm not overstating the situation," Oliver protested.

"Did they have drama class at Excelsior?" Clark asked.

"Yes, and I was in the school plays." Oliver had been celebrated for his portrayals of youthful suffering and deviance.

"Uh huh."

"What are you implying?"

"Just that you're probably tired and it's making you dramatic," Clark reasoned.

"Funny, Clark. Psych your major?"

"Journalism."

"That's why you spend all that time at the Daily Planet with Ms. Sullivan?"

"I help Chloe out with stories sometimes, yeah."

"But not Lois?"

"She's after one story and I already know the key details."

"What about her other work?"

"She doesn't like to ask for help, especially mine." And Clark knew better than to keep offering and get swatted.

"You're the annoying younger brother," Oliver intuited.

"I try and look after her when she gets into something too dangerous, I just don't let her know." Which was proof that Clak didn't let Lois' need for independence get her into waters that she couldn't swim.

"Unseen guardian, your trademark."

"I guess."

"Look, Clark, I wanted to tell you that it worked out great, and we should try it again."

"Okay." Clark obviously wanted to tell Oliver that this kind of assistance wasn't a long-term fix, but he had already tried, and Oliver appreciated that he wasn't rehashing the same arguments.

"Ill let you know when I need a pick up."

"Sure, I'll talk to you later," Clark said and with that being settled, they hung up.

Clark didn't bring up Lois when he met Oliver in Metropolis the next time or on any of the other nights when Oliver called him up and asked for a life. He could have been sullen or quietly judgmental, but instead Clark seemed withdrawn. Oliver saw two sides of the same person, in different parts of one life. There was Clark, the guy who was good friends with Lois, hung out with her and Oliver, and then there was Clark who met Oliver in the dark early mornings and only did favors. It was a type of compartmentalizing that Oliver hadn't seen ever, and it took a while to figure out what Clark was doing or why.

Oliver hadn't thought it would be hard to find Clark, considering that he didn't hang out many places besides home, but just when Oliver wanted to find him, there was no sign of 'that Kent boy' in any of the spots around town that a boy usually hung out in. It was disconcerting to have to go through an investigation to find someone who was so unique but who had learned to blend in way to well for Oliver's purposes. He was reduced to asking Lois if she could get a hold of her cousin and pass a message along to Clark.

"She'll let us know if she sees him," Lois said, hanging up. "They have their own little code, though, so if there's something going on she'll screen all the gory details for us."

Oliver tuned back in, having gotten more girl talk than he'd been prepared to hear when he made the request. "Didn't they used to work together?"

"On the high school paper, yeah. Chloe was the editor and Clark punctuated or something."

"I bet he did more than that," Oliver said. Based on the way Lois charged off after leads, he bet that trait ran in the family and that Clark had tagged along more than once to pull Chloe out of danger.

"Smallville has a way of bringing out the weirdoes," Lois said absently, looking into space as if she was imagining a headline, then she flicked it away with one hand. "But Chloe already covered that angle and I'm onto bigger and better things. Vigilantes terrorizing Metropolis, the crime wave, the real beating heart of the people."

"Still, the way you two work, have you ever thought about collaborating on a story?" Oliver suggested.

Lois snorted, one of her more indelicately and endearingly. "The two of us? We both may have the journalistic instinct, but each of us has our own arena and those aren't likely to cross. If they do, there would be some serious fallout. We're talking massive damage."

Oliver made a mental note to steer clear of such an event, even if the entertainment would be worth taking shelter to witness it. "I guess it's a good thing that you two know where you're headed, then."

"Absolutely."

"And where does Clark figure in this?"

"He's good at lifting heavy objects, carries boxes, you know, guy stuff." Lois waved Clark Kent away again, but this time Oliver didn't see any indication that she was recalling an instance of Kent-based peculiarity. It was more like he'd been fit into a slot in her mind and she hadn't had any reason to think of him differently. Whether she was ready to revise that estimation was unclear, so Oliver decided to ask a couple questions.

"What do you think he's going to do when he gets out of Smallville?"

"I don't know, find a job somewhere, support his mom, take care of the farm, Clark stuff." If she'd been asked about font size Lois could have sounded more enthusiastic.

"He hasn't said anything about his plans to you?"

"I stayed at the guy's house, I didn't read his diary, Ollie. He doesn't talk to me, I told you, Chloe is the one with the key to Clark's inner sanctum, not that there's much in there." She looked up from setting page margins with single finger stabs at the keyboard. "Why don't you just call Clark? Really, it's not like Chloe is his answering service."

"He hasn't been home and I need to get in touch with him."

"Why?" Lois couldn't think of any reason for her boyfriend and that Kent kid to be hanging out, and people must have said the same thing about Lex and Clark.

"It's a guy thing, Lois." Oliver let himself smirk at her and she rolled her eyes.

"You think you're being so subtle. If you wanted to know what I wear to bed you could ask me, Clark has no idea."

"That's not what I want to ask him, although now that you brought the subject up, what do you wear to bed, Lois?"

"You're not going to find out tonight, Mr. Queen, I have a deadline and an editor who thinks that aliens may have sent the Green Arrow as a hostile envoy to brainwash the people, so I need you and your smart remarks to beat it."

Oliver was chased out of the apartment, but not without obtaining Chloe's cell phone number, a thorough kiss and a look from Lois that promised she would be available later, just not when she was hard at work trying to expose the Green Arrow's nefarious plans.

He left a message on Chloe's voicemail and then decided to drop by the Daily Planet later to make sure he was anticipating possible misdirection. If Clark really was avoiding him, then Oliver had no doubt that Chloe would run interference, even against a powerful businessman. Wealth didn't intimidate either her or Lois, which he found interesting, but sometimes it was nice to know that people would do what he said on the basis of his name and not make a situation more complicated. A little fear was useful, if apparently bred out of Smallville's residents, a fact that he was growing accustomed to mostly by being around Clark.

After searching ineffectually for a farm boy, he returned to his penthouse to find Clark on his couch, feet conscientiously flat on the floor, his posture an image of contrite determination.

"Had your parents been cat burglars, you'd be an international sensation," Oliver said, dropping his keys on his desk and shrugging just as carelessly out of his jacket. "That was another joke, Clark."

Clark still didn't speak and Oliver turned around, serious by necessity.

"You have a problem, Clark?" Oliver didn't want to drag it out of the other man, but if the Kent family was determined to do something, Oliver could tell it would take a lot to dissuade them from a decision, and currently, Clark was holding back.

"This isn't working."

"When did this turn into an engagement?" Oliver asked. "I just came to you for help a few times and suddenly it's become a problem that has you sneaking around like you have a secret. Well, other than the usual one."

If Clark hadn't been fixated on whatever was making him stare miserably at his sneakers, Oliver guessed that he'd be on the receiving end of a nasty look, but Clark was preoccupied with his unvoiced woes.

"So you don't want to help me out anymore, is there any actual reasoning behind this, or is it cutting into your stargazing time?"

"I don't stargaze," Clark said, not ready to let Oliver take them off subject, but still not talking about it.

Oliver would bet that Clark used to look at the stars quite a lot, but he kept that to himself. "But you came here to tell me I wouldn't be taking the fast track home."

"I think there's a better way to handle this, and I don't know what it is, but you should talk to your girlfriend, not break up with her because you're scared of what she'll do." Clark came to a halt, realizing just how strongly he'd been talking and he got up looking embarrassed.

"I'll head out," Clark said and left while Oliver was still taking in his outburst. Clark mulled stuff over long enough, but then he didn't hesitate to let it out. He was making great strides in learning how to keep everything in, but he'd have to work on letting it boil over. After setting his views out there like that, he probably wouldn't stop by anytime soon, which gave Oliver some time to come up with a plan of action for both Clark and Lois. It happened that he got the chance to do that with help from Lois and the seasonal get together.

Holidays at the Kent farm were about warmth, good feelings, and setting aside differences for the season. Having experienced the benefits, Oliver was all in favor of it. He knew that, in spite of their disagreement, Clark Kent was a good boy and he wouldn't leave someone out in the cold when there was another spot at the table.

He got the invitation by way of Lois; she was sorting news reports by date and reliability while Oliver read an email from the board of directors.

"You're coming for Christmas dinner, right?"

"Can't, I'm going to be overseas, have to finalize the paperwork for a new acquisition."

Oliver wasn't aiming for cruelty, the arrangements had been in the works for months, but he'd taken current events into account and thought it might be the right opportunity to give them a bit of space. He'd let this business trip be his method of gauging just how strong this connection with Lois was. It sounded cold, but he'd learned to make these judgments when a relationship was poised to take a serious turn, which was why none of his others had lasted beyond such examinations.

"Oh," Lois said. "How long are you going to be gone?"

"Two or three days at the most."

"So you'll be back before the first?" Lois said expectantly.

"Assuming nothing comes up." He'd caught her cue and knew that he was being given a chance to achieve his objective and still make this work.

"Then you'll come by when you get back. Mrs. Kent is having some people over to bring in the New Year."

"Am I invited?"

"Your name came up, but I said I'd have to see if you had the time."

"I could stop by," Oliver allowed.

"I'll let Clark know to make room." Lois laid one stack of papers to the side and stilled for one of her brief pauses. "He should bring a date."

Oliver stiffened, recognizing the look on her face, it was the same one she'd gotten when she decided that the Green Arrow had to be brought down and he cut her off fast. "You probably should let Clark worry about his own life, he doesn't need help getting into romantic entanglements."

"No, he doesn't," Lois reflected. "But still, it might be good for Clark to have fun once in awhile."

"Any new leads on the Green Arrow?" Oliver asked desperately.

Oliver could have been ashamed that he was trying to distract his girlfriend from helping out someone she cared about, but he was mostly hopeful that Lois would be distracted. If she did drag Clark into an unwanted date, Oliver resolved to return a favor and perform a rescue.

Lois didn't call him while he was out of the country; she knew the boundaries between work and play. She did text him, though. That didn't take any time way from the deal and it was a diversion that Oliver welcomed when the meetings became predictable and he barely had to flaunt his wealth to complete the negotiations.

The flight arrived in Metropolis close to dawn on the last day of the year, but Oliver had his driver meet him at the airport and told the man to drive directly to Smallville.

Lois answered the Kent's door with a conspiratorial smile that Oliver kissed and was concerned about her intent. "Look who made it," she called, leading Oliver inside.

Mrs. Kent put down a tray of food and came over to shake his hand in welcome. "Lois didn't tell us you were coming."

"I wasn't sure, so I didn't want to say anything," Lois explained.

Oliver inhaled deeply. "Is something burning?"

"Oh, crap," Lois spun around and ran for the kitchen.

"She's got cookies baking," Mrs. Kent explained, then apparently decided she was needed and took off after Lois.

Oliver winced as he heard pans crashing and a string of words that Lois usually reserved for computer glitches right before deadlines. It seemed smartest to stay clear of the culinary scene until the air cleared, and so Oliver headed out onto the porch.

Minutes later, he heard Mrs. Kent yelling for her son and Oliver scanned the fields, trying to pick out the blur of color that was Clark at high speed. He felt a wind that came from the north pasture and blinked, then discovered Clark on the bottom step.

"Hey," Oliver said curiously, taking in Clark's neat appearance. "What were you doing out there?"

"Pulling out stumps." Clark came up the stairs with an expression Oliver couldn't read so he offered an explanation for his presence.

"Lois invited me."

"I know, I heard."

"You weren't anywhere near the house."

"No, but Lois' voice carries."

"A couple miles?" Oliver said. Even for Lois, that was pushing the bounds of believability.

"I have very good hearing."

"Handy, that."

"It can be." Clark brushed himself off, raising a small dust cloud and nodded toward the door. "I'm heading inside to wash up." There were his manners again; Oliver was an unexpected guest who Clark had an argument with and nobody would be able to say that he was less than an impeccable host.

"I'll follow you." If they were going to have a moment to themselves where Oliver could explain himself, he was going to have to work for it, and that entailed keeping close to Clark. They headed inside, slipping into the kitchen, now vacant of women, who'd left some burnt cookies in the trash and a window open to chase out the lingering aroma of smoke.

"How was your trip?" Clark's voice was pitched to be heard over the running water, but Oliver moved to lean on the counter next to him.

"Great, I crushed a few third generation companies, expanded my empire, and got in a little golf."

Clark snapped a hand towel harshly and Oliver chuckled.

"Kidding, I made sure that a company who'd profited from sweat shop labor won't be celebrating the New Year."

"You bought them out," Clark said.

"Obliterated would be accurate too, but the first sounds more diplomatic."

Clark tossed the dishrag on the counter and turned to face Oliver. "You want to tell me something without Lois or my mom hearing."

Whatever else Clark was uncertain of, he'd learned how to read people well. "It's about Lois and that agreement we had," Oliver said.

"The one where I helped you out." Despite his misgivings, Clark didn't add.

"Right, which I appreciate, that can't have been easy, knowing you feel about Lois."

"Knowing how who feels about Lois?" The girl under discussion poked her head into the room and was staring at the two of them with interest. "Talking about me behind my back? You're going to make me nervous, Ollie."

"There's nothing to worry about," Oliver said. "I was just continuing a conversation with Clark that we didn't get a chance to finish earlier."

"Okay, if you want to keep secrets, that's fine, but while you boys are plotting, Mrs. Kent and I are going to eat all the cookies." Lois raised an eyebrow at them. Turning away, she said to Clark, "I might have asked one of the girls from the Inquisitor to stop by." She smiled. "Don't worry, I didn't tell her too much, wouldn't want to scare her off."

Oliver and Clark locked eyes, united in how ill at ease they were. Lois either didn't pick up on it or didn't think it should obstruct her plan and headed back to Mrs. Kent and the remaining cookies. Clark appeared to be considering taking another run, this time to another state and not coming back until either Lois and her friend had left or the new year arrived.

"She's trying to help," Oliver offered lamely.

"Great." Clark looked like a man who knew he was trapped and was searching for a way out of it.

"I'll run interference," Oliver said.

"How? Lois will grab you as soon as she can."

"I'll think of a way, unless you want to meet this friend first?"

"I'm not interested in dating somebody right now." Keeping secrets from lovers hadn't worked for Clark and it wasn't proving successful for Oliver either, and it was good for at least one of them to break the cycle.

"What'll keep her from-" Clark couldn't bring himself to finish a sentence that had no polite resolution.

"Mostly you have to stand your ground. Tell her you're not interested and when she doesn't get it, tell her again." Oliver considered Clark's country bred manners and presented an alternate plan. "Or you could just tell your mother that you have something to show me in the barn."

The ploy was baldly obvious, but neither Clark nor Oliver cared. Mrs. Kent must have seen the hunted expression on her son's face because she urged the boys outside and gently removed a second pan from the ovens, distracting Lois with a change in topic.

"Your mom's pretty sharp," Oliver commented as they left.

"She could tell I was almost ready to escape anyway, she just made it alright."

They headed into the barn and then up to the loft. Oliver ran a hand idly over the telescope pointed at the sky as he looked over the space more thoroughly than he had the last time.

Clark flopped back on the sofa, relief standing out on his face. "Do you ever have this problem?"

"It's a little easier to extricate yourself when you can claim you have a board meeting."

"You have a lot of those?"

"Sometimes unscheduled and lengthy," Oliver confided.

"And if that doesn't work, I should go spend some time at the Arctic Circle," Clark muttered.

"I was going to suggest that you say you're in a threesome with me and Lois," Oliver said reasonably.

Clark choked on his hot chocolate and Oliver thumped him soundly on the back.

"You don't think that's a bit extreme?"

"Subjecting yourself to Lois and me has to be better than hypothermia." He thought about it. "When she hasn't been on one of her latté binges."

"How do you come up with this stuff?" Not that Clark sounded like he actually wanted to know.

"Hours of meditation, it helps settle the mind."

"Not mine," and Clark looked rather unsettled.

"Fair enough." It was a neat solution in Oliver's opinion, and had enough truth to ease the telling from absurd to questionable.

"And you have plan for putting this into her head."

"I do." It was one of the simplest forms of claiming someone and was understood universally.

"What about Lois maiming me?" Clark sensed that Oliver had an idea that fit in more with Lois' sort of scheme than with what Clark would have chosen to do.

"We don't have to do anything crazy, we can hang out here, maybe she won't come, or Lois will forget to bring her out here."

"I could be gone and back in a few minutes," Clark said plaintively.

"No running off and leaving me to distract her," Oliver insisted. He took in what Clark had said. "You're that fast?" He hadn't gotten a chance to time Clark when they were rushing around Metropolis, so having some kind of measurement intrigued him.

"Yeah." From Clark it was another basic fact, not an example of an amazing ability.

"Where would you go?"

"I've got something of a hideout." Just in case he needed to get further away than the barn, which Oliver could tell was his first choice for when he needed to retreat from the world.

"In the arctic?" Oliver's favorite getaway spots were where he could count on there being sun and privacy, but maybe having all those abilities made a guy even weirder. "Is it nice?"

"Kind of bare, but it's mine."

The way Clark said the last was certain, much more than about how best to fend off the unwelcome advances of strange women.

"It sounds almost mythic," Oliver commented.

"I guess so."

Clark continued to be uncomfortable with such words, but they were bound to figure heavily in his future and Oliver felt that Clark needed to get used to them. If he couldn't tell Clark that everything would sort itself out without telling a convenient lie, Oliver didn't want to. He knew that there were three people's desires to be considered, even if Lois didn't realize it. She had other goals, greater aspirations than being the woman on Oliver Queen's arm at parties. Oliver could tell that soon she wouldn't be satisfied with having what that position gave her, she liked to stand by herself, even if that wasn't the most acceptable stance to take. Whether she let anyone walk alongside her was still debatable, although Oliver knew it was possible, he was finding that his other priorities were interfering. He wasn't ready to divide his life the way Clark did, but an answer had to present itself soon. But in the meantime he wanted to ensure that not only did he have a method for avoiding exposure, but that a misunderstanding didn't prevent Clark from being open to collaborating later on.

"When I started doing this gig, it was easy, you know? I already had talent, resources, and I knew what had to be done, there were just a few obstacles to be overcome." Oliver paced back and forth in front of the couch while he tossed a baseball from one hand to the other. "I wasn't expecting my girlfriend to be one of them."

"Lois has ways of surprising you." Clark agreed.

"She's not the only one. You care about the people around you, Clark, even when it means that you aren't going to get what you want." It wasn't dramatic, but it was heroism, on a personal level. "I'm not saying that I agree with you all the time, but at the moment, you're right."

Clark hadn't relaxed as they came up into the loft and hearing that Oliver's views had changed didn't help. "Look, Oliver, I'm not Lois, you don't have to spare my feelings so say what you're trying to get out."

"Honestly, I'm worried that if I do, you're going to toss me out the window."

"Now I am worried."

Oliver sent the baseball sailing toward the couch, straight at Clark, who caught it easily, as Oliver had known he would.

While Clark stared at him in confusion, Oliver crossed the room, leaned in and pressed their lips together. Clark's mouth gaped slightly in astonishment, and Oliver made the kiss last to the instant before he thought Clark would push him away and then he backed off.

"I meant what I said, there are three people in this relationship."

Clark shut his mouth after a moment, but his conversational skills were slower to return and Oliver was able to move back unhurt and without being heaped with threats.

"Think about it, Clark. I'll be inside with Lois, come in when you're ready to join us."

On his way back to the house, Oliver didn't look over his shoulder because he knew that in a couple minutes Clark would follow and that was a promise that Oliver would keep.


End file.
